


Day 7: Nurse/Baker Verse "Oh To Be A Towel"

by bluest_skies



Series: Destiel Smut Brigade AU Challenge [8]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dean is a Tease, First Time Blow Jobs, Light Angst, M/M, Towels are evil, baker!cas, fun in the kitchen, nurse!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 14:24:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,102
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2273139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluest_skies/pseuds/bluest_skies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a worrisome call from Dean, Castiel learns more about Dean's past and that bath towels are evil.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Day 7: Nurse/Baker Verse "Oh To Be A Towel"

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to everyone who helped me with this story. You saved me from flinging myself into traffic.

Jesus, his shoulder was killing him. He had no feeling left in his right hand and his back was so stiff Castiel dreaded getting up off the bed. He glanced down at Dean, who slept on, face smashed into the pillow (which was lying on top of Cas' arm), a whistling snore escaping him, and smiled. The discomfort was totally worth it.

But seriously, he had to move.

He slowly started to pull his arm out from under the pillow, cringing when Dean let out a snort. When he finally rolled over and settled back down, Cas freed himself and slipped off the bed, making his way to the kitchen, flapping his hand around to try and get the feeling back. Coffee. He needed coffee and a few moments to collect his thoughts.

  
Castiel had been so focused at the shop that morning that it was light outside before he realized Dean had not shown up yet. After repeated attempts to call and only reaching Dean's voicemail, his anxiety started to build, dreading something was wrong. When Dean had finally called him back an hour later, his relief at seeing the number pop up in his screen was quickly dashed when all he heard was, "Cas, I need you. Please." Dean's voice sounded so broken and lost that going to him wasn't even a question. He had immediately closed the store.   
  
Castiel wished he had been prepared for the sight that greeted him when he finally arrived. He had barely raised his arm to knock before Dean had flung the door open, still in his scrubs, which were blood spattered, face pale and drawn.    
  
"Jesus, Dean. Are you--" Dean had yanked him inside with a gruff “it's not mine”, slamming the door closed before shoving Castiel against it. He was all hands, pushing Castiel's jacket open,  tugging his shirt out his pants, pulling at it until buttons popped free, pinging across the floor.    
  
"Dean, what--" But he was cut off again when Dean smashed his mouth to Cas' and he grunted when their teeth banged together. Dean had pushed against him, grinding against his pelvis, whimpering as he pushed his tongue into Castiel's mouth.    
  
Cas had wrenched his mouth away. "Dean, wait--"   
  
"Cas just...shut up and fuck me. Please. I just need to--Cas please."   
  
Cas had cupped a hand around Dean's jaw, one thumb stroking a across his cheek. "Dean, I can't do this." While Castiel could feel their relationship was heading in that direction, he had no intentions of their first time having sex happening while Dean was under emotional duress. Prying Dean's hands from his shirt, Cas had wrapped his arms around Dean's body, pulling him close. "Tell me what happened," he'd whispered.    
  
They'd ended up in the bedroom, Dean allowing Cas to remove his bloody scrubs before he crawled into bed in just his boxer briefs, pulling Cas down with him. Cas said nothing about the tattoo he caught a glimpse of on Dean's arm or the severe scarring on his left leg. He just held Dean tightly, one hand petting his hair.    
  
"I lost a patient last night. It's not the first time but...I don't know, Cas. He--he reminded me of this kid that was in my Squad." He had looked up at Cas then. "I was a combat medic in the Army. Did I tell you?"    
  
Cas shook his head. "No. Is that what this is for?" He had asked, fingertips brushing over the inked skin, a Caduceus, the symbol of medicine.   
  
"Yeah. This kid, Kevin, he was young, fresh from medic training so he just assisted me really. Basic first aid, stuff like that. He was accompanying me on the transport of another wounded soldier when our truck hit a roadside bomb. Our patient and the driver died instantly. Kevin a few hours later." Dean had patted his leg. "This was my souvenir. I was lucky." Dean had paused a moment, then shrugged. "I don't know, Cas. This kid tonight...he was so young and I guess it just took me back there. I tried so hard to save him. Him and Kevin, but I just...couldn't."   
  
Cas had been struck speechless. This warm, funny, caring man had seen such tragedy, but one would ever know by the way he carried himself. "All you can do is try, Dean."   
  
Dean had nodded against his chest. "I know that, I do. Just sometimes..." He trailed off, looking up at Cas. "Do you need to go?"   
  
"No. I have nowhere else I want to be right now." He sat up for a few moments, pulling the covers over them both.

Dean had pressed himself against Cas' side. “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel waited until Dean's breath had become slow and even, his body lax in sleep before he pressed a light kiss to the top of Dean's head. “You're welcome.”

  
~*~   
  


Armed with a cup of coffee, Castiel made his way back down the hallway to the bedroom and poked his head in. Dean had once again turned over, his arm flung out over the spot that Cas had previously occupied. He watched as Dean's fingers started to move, tracing along the comforter, his hand flattening out to rub back and forth.

“I'm right here,” he said from the doorway.

“ Shit!” Dean smashed his face into the pillow, voice muffled. “Jesus you scared me. I thought you'd left.”

Castiel chuckled. “Sorry. Just needed some coffee.” He raised the cup up as he walked over to the bed. “Hope you don't mind. I helped myself.”

Dean rolled over onto his back. “No it's fine. As long as you made enough for two.” He stretched, arms raised up over his head, the sheet sliding down to reveal the flat, smooth planes of his chest, the bunched muscles in his abdomen. The cup in Cas' hand trembled and a loud ringing started in his ears. When Dean's back arched up off the bed and he groaned, Cas' brain conjured up images of that same position, except the arching and the groaning was because of Cas' mouth working over Dean's cock. He started to set the cup down before he lost his grip on it, but then wondered if he shouldn't have something to hold onto so he didn't just throw himself on top of Dean right now. 

“ Cas?”

Now that his mind had gone down  _ that _ rabbit hole, it was all he could think about.

“ Cas!” Dean slapped a hand against Cas' leg.

“ I don't know what I'm doing!”

“ Well acting like a weirdo for one thing.” Dean eyed him suspiciously. “Did you hear anything I said?”

“ Not a word. I'm sorry. What?”

“ I asked how long I'd been asleep.”

“ Oh. Uh, a few hours. It's almost noon. Are you hungry? I could make us something.”

"Yeah sure, that'd be great." 

“ What time do you go back to work?”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face. “I'm off tonight. Switched shifts with Garth.”

Cas watched as Dean shimmied off the bed and dug a pair of sweats and a t-shirt out of the dresser. "Dean?"

"Hmm," Dean replied as he hunted down a pair of socks.   
  
"Your leg. Does it hurt still?"   
  
"Nah. Just damn ugly to look at," he replied, pushing the drawer closed with his hip.   
  
Castiel grabbed Dean by the arm as he walked towards the bathroom and Dean's brows furrowed in confusion. "There is no part of you that could ever be ugly, Dean Winchester,” he said quietly, then turned to head towards the kitchen.   
  
~*~   
  
They were definitely going to have to establish some Rules .   
  
Rule #1 - Don't give the chef a heart attack while he's wielding a knife   
  
Rule #2 - Warn a guy when you plan to walk around wet and naked   
  
"Dean, why are you naked?" He couldn't just walk around all freshly showered, water drops still dripping from his hair, wearing the smallest bath towel Castiel had ever seen around his waist (honestly it was barely covering anything at all, the slit climbing high up Dean's leg and Cas actually kept an eye on that small band of fabric tucked in at the hipbone, simultaneously hoping it stayed put and came undone). How was he expected to concentrate on cooking food? Or breathing? Or functioning in any capacity at all?   
  
"What are you talking about? I'm wearing a towel."   
  
"Ok  _ that _ barely qualifies as a towel." Cas grabbed the kitchen towel from his shoulder and flapped it around. "This is almost bigger than what you have around your waist right now."   
  
"Well  _ that's _ an exaggeration," Dean muttered under his breath.   
  
"And you should warn a person," Cas continued, ignoring him. "Especially a person with a knife in his hand. I don't need another scar.   
  
Dean leaned back against the opposite counter with a smirk.   
  
"And are you  _ trying _ to kill me? I nearly had a heart attack."   
  
Dean pushed away from the counter. "Well lucky for you, I know CPR." In three steps he was pressed against Cas, skin still warm and damp from his shower. He plucked the knife from Cas' hand and set it down. "Allow me to demonstrate."   
  
At the first press of lips against his own, Cas whimpered and when Dean's tongue slid between his lips, he groaned embarrassingly loud.   
  
"God...what are you doing to me," he gasped out when they briefly parted.   
  
"I'm trying to seduce you," Dean murmured against Cas' neck, sucking a small mark there as Cas clutched at his shoulders. "Is it working?"   
  
Cas nudged his hips against Dean's. "Yeah--oh god right there," he groaned when Dean hit a particularly sensitive spot behind his ear.   
  
Cas felt dizzy when Dean moved away to drop to his knees on the kitchen tile. "Dean, what--"   
  
"Hush." He made quick work of Cas' jeans, pushing them down along with his underwear.    
  
Dean leaned forward, rubbing his cheek along Cas' dick before running his tongue along the length, until it was spit slick and shiny. Cas grabbed the edge of the counter, his breaths coming out of him in harsh exhales when Dean finally wrapped his lips around the head, pushing forward until his nose bumped against Cas' pelvic bone.

“ _ Holy jesus god, _ ” Cas panted as the head brushed the back of Dean's throat. Dean held him there, swallowing around him, small moans from Dean sending vibrations along his shaft. Cas' head fell back, smacking into the cabinet behind him as Dean's mouth pushed and pulled, licked and sucked. And the noises,  _ the noises _ that were coming out of his own mouth – Cas wasn't aware that a human being could  _ make  _ those sounds, much less that they could come from  _ him _ .

Cas looked down when he realized that Dean was no longer moving, but  _ he _ was, his hips bucking forward, cock sliding deep into Dean's throat. Dean just held onto him, fingers digging into his ass cheeks, letting Cas fuck into him over and over, his eyes turned upward, fixed on Cas' face.

That fluttering spark that had ignited low in his belly swelled until his entire body felt flushed, skin too tight to contain him. It was all so intense, Dean pliant and open, giving himself wholly over to Cas, the sensations he was pulling from Cas' body nothing he'd ever felt in his life.

“ Dean,” he choked out, teeth cutting into his bottom lip as he watched his cock slide in and out of Dean's mouth. He spiraled higher, everything drowned out except this  _ feeling _ , until it was too much and he came, legs barely holding him up as his hips jerked erratically, spilling down Dean's throat. He whimpered as Dean pulled off with a light smacking sound, tongue swirling around the head and slit.

“ I need...I need to,” Cas gestured weakly towards Dean's two-seater kitchen table.

“ Sit down?” Dean supplied helpfully.

Cas nodded, shuffling over to the chair once Dean had pulled his underwear and jeans back up. His head dropped to the table with a dull  _ thonk.  _ “Oh my god,” he groaned, “You  _ are _ trying to kill me.”

“ You're ridiculous.”

Cas cracked an eye open and turned his head to look at Dean, who was still wearing that damn towel. He reached his arm out, grabbing at it when Dean got close enough. Sitting up in the chair, he yanked Dean to him and Dean windmilled his arms to keep from falling. Cas pulled at that little flap of fabric that was tucked in at the waist until it was free and he flung the towel behind him.

“ Allow  _ me _ to demonstrate.”

 


End file.
